The Pianist
by CronoCat
Summary: A mysterious pianist on the run, a bounty of unfathomable worth, three bounty hunters and the simple beauty of his music...Stage Two now up!
1. Joe's Bar and Hotel

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Summary: A mysterious pianist on the run, a bounty of unfathomable worth, three bounty hunters and the simple beauty of his music...

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Disclaimer: I don't own Cowboy Bebop, but I do own all of this story. Oh, and the title was my own invention. (I completely forgot about the movie, The Pianist, and now, I can't change my title...*sniff*) 

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A/N: So I was cleaning out my files, and came upon this. It's from a while ago, but I think the story has promise. Unfortunately, I never wrote down my ideas for the rest of the plot, so all I have is the first chapter. -_-' The idea originally came from a song my dad was playing on the piano (it's in here later on). Please review, and tell me if I should continue. Oh, and give me plot ideas since I don't have any!! lol...enjoy!

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Chapter One: Joe's Bar and Hotel 

Joe's Bar and Hotel was well known. The food was always good, the whiskey never watered down and the rooms cheap. The place was mostly clean and always affordable; the drunks were just drunk enough to be amusing, but rarely drunk enough to be dangerous. Joe himself was a nice guy if you were nice to him.

Tonight, as was usual, the place was crowded. Joe yelled out greetings to his usual customers while rushing around behind the bar, making drinks. There were men playing cards and gambling at several tables and everyone was laughing, talking, eating, drinking, smoking and Joe knew they would come back. He eyed the woman who had just entered quietly. She was a real looker, in short yellow shorts and a short shirt. She was wearing sunglasses and did not take them off, although the inside of the bar was dim and smoky.

Joe went on mixing drinks, watching her out of the corner of his eye. She picked a table in the corner and sat down alone. When the flow of customers calmed down, he would go and welcome her. Not only did that help convince people to come back, but also, she was a very beautiful girl. And it didn't look as though she would need much convincing.

***

Faye Valentine had noticed the bartended eying her right off. She would have had to be blind not to. If the bartended came over, she would get him to buy her a drink. After all, she was thirsty and the way he was looking at her wasn't free.

She settled back into her chair and looked around. Faye had a clear view of the piano in the corner. It was a huge piano to Faye's eyes-all black and smooth and shiny. After a moment or two, a man approached the piano. He was skinny, with black hair that was slicked back. He had a pronounced nose and thin, dark eyebrows. She didn't have to check the picture in her pocket to know that this was the guy. He was wearing a suit that looked to be two sizes to big and he kept smoothing it down nervously. Faye smirked, _a pianist on the run..._

Eventually, the man sat down cautiously and began leafing through his music, one hand poised above the keys. He must have felt Faye watching him, for his head snapped around in her direction, but with the shades, it was hard to know which way Faye was looking. She turned to a passing waitress and ordered a drink, figuring she'd find someone to pay for it later. She didn't look at the pianist again until she had the drink in front of her.

The pianist sat looking at his music for a long time, breathing deeply. Then suddenly, he placed both his hands down and music flowed out from beneath them. He played as if breathing, as if it were the easiest thing in the world. Faye forgot herself and stared in amazement. He played on and on and did not look at the music again. Faye, who had never learned anything about music, knew instinctively that he could have been famous, could have been on stage. She wondered why he had taken this job in a bar and why he had such an enormous bounty on his head.

She raised her glass to him discreetly. _To the money I will get for you. May you still play so beautifully after I catch you..._

***

Jet Black and Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky the Fourth entered Joe's Bar and Hotel together. Ed was wearing her purple dress and holding Jet's gloved hand. Jet was in a yellow suit with a matching hat. Ed skipped around excitedly, clutching a suitcase Faye knew to contain her computer, in her other hand.

"I'd like a room for tonight," Jet said, leaning over the bar. "For my daughter and me," he added, indicating Ed.

Joe nodded, handed over a room key and the two men talked for a moment about wake-up calls and beds and breakfast. Ed danced around, smiling widely. Faye breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Ed recognize her, but manage to restrain from waving or yelling, "HI FAYE-FAYE!"

In the upstairs room, Ed set up her computer, put her goggles on and started immediately running some quick checks. Jet hummed to himself and went into the bathroom to change out of his disguise and into a new one. A few minutes later, he emerged in a black suit and a wig of thick black hair.

"Find anything?"

Ed looked up from where she had removed her nice shoes and was typing with her toes. "Ed found picture! Guess what else Ed found! A BIG number!"

Jet looked over her shoulder. "Good, the bounty is still the same."

"YAY! Ed likes big numbers!" Ed cried, jumping up and down.

Jet smiled and told her to stay in the room. He went downstairs for a drink and for any updates Faye might have.

***

In the bar, Faye leaned back in her chair. She pulled out a cigarette, inspected it and lit it. Through the smoke, she watched the pianist playing.

"_A cigarette that bears a lipstick's traces,_

An airline ticket to romantic places,

And still my heart has wings.

These foolish things

Remind me of you." The pianist sang, winking at a beautiful woman walking past. Faye smiled--men. A few minutes later, she had finished her cigarette and her drink, so she got up and walked over to the piano. The man didn't even look up, just kept playing. Faye leaned against the beautiful, black edge of the piano. She could wait.

"_The winds of March that make my heart a dancer,_

A telephone that rings, but whose to answer?

Oh, how the ghost of you clings!

These foolish things

Remind me of you," he finished the song and glanced up at last.

"Where'dya learn to play like that?" Faye heard herself ask bluntly.

"I think I've always known..." he answered dreamily, his hands still holding down the last chords of the song.

"It's beautiful," Faye commented weakly. "Not the song...well, yes, the song, too, but I meant...the music and um..." Smooth move, she thought sarcastically and tried to smile nicely at the pianist.

He smiled back. "I'm glad you're enjoying it." Then he began to play again, ignoring her.

_"She left a note on her dresser_

And her old wedding ring.

With these few good-bye words,

Sadly she sings:

Good-bye old sleepy head,

I'm packing you in.

Like I said, take care of everything.

I'm leaving my wedding ring.

Don't look for me, I'll get ahead.

Remember darling; don't smoke in bed," he sang sweetly.

He looked up briefly and did a slight double take. "You're still here."

"It's a short song;" Faye laughed and wondered why all the songs he played were so sad.

"Do you want something?"

"Just to talk. I'm...here for the night alone," Faye lied.

"Ah, a lonely drifter," the pianist announced, smoothing his black hair back and searching his music--undoubtedly for a song about lonely drifters.

"Yeah," Faye acknowledged. It was only half a lie. "Smoke?"

"Oh, no. Not on the job."

"Right." She put the cigarettes back away. "You could be on stage, you know."

"Hmm."

"No, really, you could," Faye insisted. "Why are you wasting your time in a little cheap place like this?"

He played a few notes absent-mindedly. "They pay pretty good here."

"Better on stage."

"What are you? Some kind of recruiter?"

"No. Just curious."

"Then how do you know I should be on stage?" He demanded. 

"I just think you _could_ be on stage," Faye clarified.

"Yeah, well, listen: I got a job to do, so why don't you go have another drink or something, lady?"

"Sure thing. I just thought," Faye hurried on, taking a wild guess, "you looked kinda like a lonely drifter, too."

She could feel him watching her as she walked away and smiled to herself. Stage One complete.

***

Spike Speigel registered in a hotel nearby the bar. It was rumored the pianist was staying there. Spike was going to find out. He sat in the lobby, where they had cheesy elevator music playing and pretended to read the superficial magazines about losing weight and how to win friends. They had a piano in the corner, but the lid was closed over the keys and there was no sign of a pianist anywhere. Across from the lobby was the front desk. The young girl working there looked about twenty-five, with long brown hair and lots of make-up. She was chatting on the phone and painting her nails hot pink.

Spike meandered over to the desk and hung over the counter, watching her.

"Just a moment, sir," she told her and turned back to her phone call. "Well, Claire, I totally have to call you back later, because something like, just came up...uh-huh, I'd say a good something, definitely. Yeah...hmm...well, okay, then. Bye!"

Spike just kept staring at her. "Um...Sir? I can help you now..."

"Was that a work related call?"

"What?!"

"Was that a work related--" Spike repeated.

"I heard what you said. And it's none of _your _business...but no, it wasn't, " she interrupted and stood, pouting over the counter at him.

"There a pianist around here?"

"Not now, sir."

"I noticed," Spike said shortly. "Well...what about later? Is there a pianist around here then?"

"Yeah, maybe," she shrugged and became deeply engrossed in some teen magazine.

"Well...you wanna tell me or what? What's his name? What room do you have him in? When did you last see him? "

"Sir, it is not your place to ask about our other customers and besides, I'm not allowed to tell you," she said prissily.

Nonchalantly, Spike reached beneath his coat and pulled out his gun. The clerk screamed, but Spike dug deeper into his pockets. "Aha!" He cried, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. The girl was too terrified to point out the blatantly obvious no smoking sign.

Spike looked down at the gun in his hand as if seeing it for the first time. "Goodness, how did I happen to be carrying _this_ dangerous, deathly weapon around, near innocent civilians? Gosh, what if it _accidentally _went off!"

The girl turned pale. "Please don't shoot me!" She whimpered.

"Say," Spike said, turning serious, "I don't have time for games. How 'bout you tell me straight if there's a pianist around here or not?"

She gulped nervously and nodded. "Kind of tall, dark hair and real dark eyes, too. Been staying here the past couple days-pays his way in playing for free for us."

"Good...keep going," Spike prodded.

"He's got some gig in town...Joe's Bar, maybe. Or a girl, there. He goes everyday. Real quiet guy."

"What room is he staying in?"

She tore her frightened eyes away from Spike's gun and looked him up in the guest register. "207. Second floor; fourth door to your right."

"You wouldn't happen to have found a spare key of his just lying around?"

With trembling fingers, she handed over a spare.

"Well, I'll just return this to him, then," he smiled, "now don't go mentioning me to anyone...all right? Lemme have a room on the second floor."

"Room 200 is open...here's the key," she tossed him both keys and slowly backed up until she was standing with her back against the wall.

"Thanks, miss. Be careful now...you never know who might walk in..." He tucked the gun back away and walked off, whistling. The girl fainted, but when she came to in the manager's office, she said it must have been the heat and never mentioned Spike.

***

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A/N: All I have to say is, Spike is my hero. Thanks again for reading, and don't forget to review! ~CronoCat =^_^=


	2. Armed and Dangerous

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A/N: Hello mina-san! Welcome back to Stage 2 of _The Pianist_!! I apologize for the delay, but motivation and plot were lacking for some time...Anyway, I hope you all like this next chapter. I'm not completely happy with it myself, but I decided to post lest I keep editing it for the next two or three millennia. Ah, well. Please review--suggestions are always welcome! Thank you all so much for reading! Enjoy!!

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Stage Two: Armed and Dangerous

Feeling the pianist's eyes still on her, Faye walked away into the dim, smoky back of the bar, and reseated herself. Adjusting her sunglasses, she leaned back lazily in the booth as the pianist started a new set of songs. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the bartender. Only one sad, old man sat up at the bar, sipping slowly away at his still almost full glass. The bartender's movements were slow and even as he ran a cloth around the rim of a clean glass and bobbed his head slightly, in time to the piano's round melodic sound. As Faye watched, he finally set down the glass he had been cleaning for the past five minutes or so, and began a meandering walk towards her table, stopping here and there to check on other customers.

Before Joe the bartender could reach Faye, a man in a dark suit with messy black hair sauntered rather awkwardly up to Faye's table. "Mind if I sit down?" he asked, scooting into the booth across from her without waiting for an answer.

Fayed eyed him with a curious grin on her face. "Nice hair, Jet," she said, biting back a laugh.

"Looks a bit like yours," Jet quipped, and gave his wig a fond pat.

"Go away, or buy me a drink. Actually, I'll need two," Faye said lazily, ignoring the insult. "I already drank this one."

Jet just smirked. Rapping his knuckles on the table, he demanded, "what have you found out?"

"You scared away the bartender. You and that hair of yours. That's one thing."

He glared at her. "So what? I meant about the pianist."

"What pianist?"

"You're just doing this to be irritating. I _knew _we should have just left you out. Hell, Spike's a _much _better partner..."

Faye lowered her shades enough to glare over the top. Then, as if giving in, she shook her head a little, readjusted her sunglasses, and pulled out a cigarette. Flicking open her lighter, she lit it, and inhaled deeply. She leaned in closer to Jet, as if to whisper something to him, and then sighed loudly, blowing smoke directly in his face. Jet coughed.

"Damn it," he cursed, pushing himself violently away from the booth and going to buy two drinks. In his frustration and hurry, he practically bowled over the bartender. In a very short time he was back, nearly slamming the two brimming glasses down on the wooden table top.

Faye reached for one with a wide smirk on her face.

"Ah-ah!" Jet said, pulling them back towards them. The smooth glasses clinked together, and a few droplets slid down their sides. "Information first!"

"Fine! He's here okay? If you'd just look over to see where that music is coming from, you'd know he's here!" Her arm snaked out, but he lightly slapped her away.

"Don't be a smart ass. I'm thirsty, and you still have one drink to pay for."

Slumping back into her seat, Faye took a long drag on her cigarette and waited a second for its calming powers to sink in. "Okay...It's definitely him. I'm sure of it. I talked to him, too. He's all alone, but I don't know where he's staying. Anyway, that's all I know so far. I haven't talked to Spike yet either."

Jet handed her one of the drinks. "There, now that wasn't so hard, was it?" He took a drink from his glass. "Ed's upstairs, trying to see what all she could find out about him. She's probably learning everything about him, right now," he added rather fondly.

Faye nodded, balancing her cigarette on the edge of the ashtray, and lifted her glass to her lips. "Have you heard from Spike?"

"Not yet, no." He leaned in closer, resting his arms on the tabletop. "Shit, I hope he's not making a scene."

"He's Spike--of course he is," Faye said dismissively. "He's looking for where the pianist's been staying, right? Well, what if he's staying here?"

"One of us should talk to the bartender then..."

"I suppose I'd better go," Faye sighed. "You already scared him with that hair..."

"Hardy har..." Jet rolled his eyes, and took another drink.

Faye blew a smoke towards the ceiling, thinking. "His name is..."

Wiping his mouth, Jet answered, "Harry."

"Right. Harry." She finished her drink, and set the glass down lightly on the scarred wood. "Later then," she said, sauntering away towards the bar.

Shaking his head, Jet finished his drink. He watched Faye slide gracefully onto the barstool, and signal the bartender, who had been pretending not to be watching her. Turning away, Jet threw some money down on the table, and left to let Faye work her magic.

***

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Upstairs, left alone in the room, Ed squealed and turned a cartwheel. Jet had said it was a lot of money. There sure were a lot of zeroes. Landing gracefully, cat-like in front of her computer's screen once more, she idly wondered what sort of person this bounty was, and what exactly he had done.

In her characteristic Ed fashion, she began typing away with her toes. The noise echoed slightly on the bare hotel room, but she was too focused on the screen to notice. Within no time, Ed had found the web site she had been looking for: an information site designed especially for bounty hunters. It contained brief bits of information--name, hair and eye color, height, weight, date of birth, age, and last seen with...

Ed leaned in closer, the screen reflected in her dark goggles. "Ah," she breathed, "Ed found you. Ed found Harold Sullivan..."

***

Faye discreetly straightened her shirt, and swung her hips the entire short walk to the bartender, who was, by this time, undeniably unable to look away.

Upon reaching him, Faye gave a little smile, and said in a breathy voice, "hey."

"H-hello," the bartender coughed. He composed himself quickly, and added, "welcome to my bar. Is everything all right?"

"Mm...looking up," Faye said, pushing back her glasses to give him a suggestive wink.

Bartender Joe tried to pretend not to notice. "Ah, well...Can I get you a drink?"

Faye raised an eyebrow at him silently as she replaced her sunglasses on the bridge of her nose.

"On the house, of course," he added in response. "For the beautiful lady."

"Sounds great," she said, taking the glass he handed her.

"Oh, how rude of me!" he suddenly announced. "I'm Joe, as you probably already figured out."

"I'm..." Faye paused, thoughts flying through her head. No one here would recognize her, by face or name, but should the pianist catch wind of what was going on, then the game was up. She came to a decision in less than a second, and said, "Alice. Nice to meet you."

"Well, Alice...cheers!" Joe said jovially, pouring himself a drink too. They clinked glasses, neither of them looking away for a second, then lifted them to drink.

Faye swallowed and balanced the glass on the bar. "This," she announced, "is a great place."

"Why, thank you."

"No, I mean it. One of the best in the whole galaxy--and trust me, I've been to a lot," Faye went on. She paused, looking around her, then turned back to Joe. "I can't quite put my finger on it..."

Joe cleared his throat. "I can help you with that."

Behind her glasses, Faye rolled her eyes. She guessed she had asked for that, with the whole seduction act at the beginning, but it took all her composure not to gag. She aimed for ladylike disgust, moderately scandalized. "_That _is not quite what I was referring to."

The icy tone of her voice shut Joe up fast. He looked away as if embarrassed, and took another long sip of his drink.

"I meant more of the whole ambiance of the place. You do," she said condescendingly, "know what that means, I assume?"

Joe nodded, muttering some mumbled, half-hearted thanks under his breath.

"How enlightening. _You_ are a terribly articulate man," Faye said lazily, reaching for her drink again. This was turning out to be a waste of her time.

He glared at her. "What is it that you _really _want, Alice?"

"Simply a chance to talk with the owner of this fine establishment, and learn more. Am I so transparent?"

"I advise you to watch what you're saying, because _you, _my friend, are treading on very, _very_, thin ice..."

***

_There was nothing interesting on the site, save a blurry picture of Harry. He had been last seen at home, a fact about as helpful as the fact that he was a man, and no address had been given. Ed sighed in frustration, and pulled her goggles off. Idly, she tumbled over in a series of somersaults to the TV and poked the power button with one toe. Only half-listening, she climbed up on one of the beds, and picked at the fraying end of the comforter in boredom. The theme song to _Round-Up _trilled shrilly, but she paid it no mind, until she heard it._

"Harold Sullivan, the three million woolong bounty, has still not been found. Bounty hunters are warned to be extremely _cautious as this man is said to be armed and highly dangerous..."_

***

"All right, in that case, let's cut the bullshit, shall we?" Faye said in her blunt way. "I just came over to ask about the pianist...you know, the guy who plays the piano."

Dropping his more business-like demeanor, Joe replied, "I _know _what it means! What do you care about the damn pianist anyhow? His name could be Asshole for all I know, see?"

Faye sighed. "He's damn good; that's why I care. But I know his name. Couldn't you just tell me if he'll be back tomorrow night? I've got some friends who would love to hear him play," she lied easily.

"Yeah, yeah. He'll be here for the next couple days, but he didn't want to sign on for any definite amount of time. He owes me until Thursday for boarding him for free."

"He's staying here?" She asked in surprise.

"Nah, bums like him gotta stay someplace else. I put him up for one night and look at the fantastic job I got him! All night he makes money from tips--it's a good deal," Joe explained carelessly. "Far as I know, he stays at the inn just down the street...I forget the name."

It was clear there was little other information she was going to be able to get from Joe. Faye said a hasty good-bye, and headed back off in the general direction of Jet. Maybe there were more clues in the pianist's hotel room...

***

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"Here's another little hint for all ya bounty hunters out there," the woman said, with a huge wink. "We now know that Harold Sullivan was just married about a week ago to his long-time sweetheart!"

"Ain't she jist the cutest lil' thing?" drawled the man, holding up a blurry picture on a young brunette.

The woman shook her head sadly, "it's just such a shame that her husband had to go off and become a mass murderer!"

Ed leaned closer, trying to memorize the picture, but it could have been anyone. Just then, the channel dissolved with a loud crack into nothing but static...

***

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A/N: Bum, bum, ba-baaaahhh!! Okay--I'm done making my own sound effects, but I'll be back soon with a brand-new chapter! (Soon is relative, for the record...-_-') Don't forget to drop a review on your way out! Thanks for reading!! ~CronoCat =^_^=


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